


Flashpoint: A Song to What Was Lost

by Kariki



Series: The Flash Prompt Fills [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: ASL, Angst, Attempted Murder, Brief Physical Abuse, Cisco is a rich asshole but he wasn't always, Disownment, Flashpoint - Freeform, Hartley is a jerk but not always, It starts out happy then it all goes to shit, Leonard Snart is Citizen Cold, Lost Love, M/M, Mildly sexual assault, Muteness, Never fell out of love, Oral Sex, Racial slurs, Second Chances, Slurs, alternative universe, physical assault, tags will be added as needed, threats of conversion therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7757134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kariki/pseuds/Kariki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They fell in love, they got married, they were happy.  They grew older, they changed, they divorced.  Some things can be fixed, some things don't need to be fixed, some things are lost.  Despite all that's happened to them, they never quite stopped being in love with who the other used to be.</p><p>A series of moments in the lives of Cisco Ramon and Hartley Rathaway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning: First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: If you're still taking prompts: post flashpoint Hartmon - "I love you"
> 
>  
> 
> I got this prompt after writing a bit of headcanon for the CW Flashverse with a lot of comic elements included. Then I talked with the prompter and things got out of hand. Oops.

The Rathaway Industries building was a massive construction of green granite and green glass that towered over the surrounding buildings. It served as headquarters to the third largest research laboratory in the country and they were notoriously picky about who they hired. 

They only accepted the best of the best.

Even getting an unpaid internship with them was a huge honor and Cisco did feel honored, even if he had to get a second part-time job just so he make rent, even though he would have to eat spaghettios and ramen to survive but it would be worth it.

Completely worth it.

“You got this,” Cisco muttered, staring up at the granite entranceway, tugging at the hem of his lucky t-shirt.

The inside wasn’t any less intimidating than the outside. The granite and glass continued on through the main lobby, the receptionist desk being just one giant slab of granite. Over the reception desk was a large painting of a older man, his hair almost white in color with a receding hair line, staring out over the lobby. The receptionist behind the desk, in full suit and tie, eyed him up and down but handed over his new id card.

“Twenty-third floor,” the man instructed, typing in Cisco’s name into the computer. “You’ll be working under Dr. Moore. Elevators are to the right.”

“Right,” Cisco grinned, slipping the lanyard holding his id over his head. “First day… Wish me luck!”

The man quirked an eyebrow before looking back to his computer screen.

_Okay, rude._

Cisco turned to the elevators. The main lobby was surprisingly deserted, the only people around being himself, the receptionist, and another man already waiting by the elevators. 

Was he early? Oh, what if he was late?

The man he had interviewed with had said 7 a.m., he was sure of it.

_Crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap._

“Hi,” Cisco smiled, and tried to ignore his heart as it pounded in panic in his chest. The other man, who was about his age, maybe a year or two older, glanced over at him. Everything about him screamed ‘money’. His clothes looked way too nice to be anything other than designer. The sweater vest, despite being a sweater vest, probably cost a month’s rent for Cisco’s tiny one-bedroom. The messenger bag draped over his shoulder could probably buy groceries for a month - like, _real_ groceries with actual nutritional values and benefits to them.

The other man looked Cisco over, pausing at his chest to read.

“’Keep calm and Han shot first’…” He read aloud, his voice sounding bored and, perhaps, mildly annoyed. He pulled at the strap to his bag, readjusting it.

“Uh, yeah,” Cisco smiled and glanced at the elevator to see the button for the twenty-third floor was already lit up. “Big Star Wars fan.”

“Hmm,” the other man looked back at him, blue eyes narrowed behind the horn-rimmed glasses.

The elevator dinged and doors opened in front of them. Cisco followed the other man inside.

“I’m Cisco Ramon,” Cisco said as he watched the gold colored doors close in front of them. “It’s my first day. New intern.”

“Congratulations,” the man said, his lips tightened in what Cisco could only guess was annoyance. “It’ll probably be your last day as well.”

Cisco felt his smile melt from his face. Was everyone who worked here an jerk?

“And why is that?” Cisco asked before he could stop himself.

The other turned his head to look at him and scoffed. “You’re wearing a _t-shirt_. A _Star Wars_ t-shirt. You do realize this is a professional building? Star Wars isn’t professional.”

“HR didn’t say anything against it when I had my interview,” Cisco said back as he crossed his arms. “I would think they’d mention it.”

The other guy rolled his eyes and turned back to look straight ahead at their reflections. “You won’t last the day.”

“Jerk,” Cisco muttered under his breath. The other’s hands gripped the strap of his bag tighter.

The last thing Cisco expected, at that moment, was for ‘Hedwig’s Theme’ to start playing, the chiming opening filling the tight space. Cisco frowned and looked up at the speaker in the top right corner of the elevator but the music didn’t seem to be coming from there.

Slowly, Cisco turned his head to look at the man beside him. A hint of pink had quickly bloomed over the other man’s pale cheeks. He cursed under his breath and began digging into his pocket. He pulled out a smartphone and the music grew louder now that it was no longer being muffled by the man’s trousers. A few flicks of the other’s fingers and the music stopped. The phone was put away.

Cisco stared.

“Really?” He asked after a moment, fighting back a smirk. “Star Wars is unprofessional but Harry Potter gets a pass.”

“I forgot to put it on silent,” the other muttered as he refused to look back at Cisco. “A ringtone is different than a t-shirt.”

“Oh, of course,” Cisco scoffed. He looked back at their reflection in the metal elevator doors. After a moment, Cisco reached into his pocket and pulled out the crappy flip phone he had bought from Wal-mart. The other man looked down at it and a look of disbelief crossed over his face for a moment as he watched Cisco type.

A 16-bit rendition of the Legend of Zelda theme song began to play. Cisco shrugged and flipped the phone closed, cutting off the music. He turned the phone off before slipping it back in his pocket.

“I’m a Ravenclaw, by the way,” Cisco said as they passed by a few floors in silence. “Like, every quiz I take puts me in Ravenclaw. Though most people insist Pottermore’s the only one that counts.”

The other didn’t say anything as he watched they passed the twentieth floor.

“I got a hatstall between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff,” he finally announced, looking straight ahead and not at Cisco.

Cisco grinned. “Wow, nice. What’d you pick?”

The elevator chimed and the doors opened. Before Cisco could say another word, the other man all but rushed forward, desperate to get out of the cramped space. He paused at the door and glanced back at Cisco. “Get rid of the shirt. It’ll get you fired.”

With that, he turned and walked down the hallway. He didn’t look back.

“Nice to meet you too,” Cisco said to himself as he stepped out of the elevator. So much for bonding over mutual geekery. Jerk.

Dr. Moore was a thin, older man with gray streaking through his red hair and a neatly trimmed beard that had already gone completely gray. He looked at Cisco over the top of a tablet, scrutinizing him carefully.

“You’re the latest one, eh?” He said, mostly to himself. “At least you’re on time.” 

Cisco glanced around the mostly empty lab space. He looked back at Dr. Moore.

“Oh, good. I was worried I heard the time wrong.” Dr. Moore didn’t look up from the tablet, his thin fingers skittering across the screen. Cisco followed him down the hall. “Where, uh… is everyone?”

“Interns come in two hours before everyone else,” Dr. Moore announced, looking up as they entered one of the labs. He walked to a door and opened it, revealed it to be a simple closet. He snatched a lab coat and tossed it toward Cisco. “You and the other intern will set up the machines for the day, run paperwork to the archives, ready samples, and all the other menial jobs no one else has time to do.”

Cisco looked at the lab coat for a moment before pulling it on. Duty wise, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting but then again, interns were at the bottom of the totem pole, so to speak. At least he didn’t have to clean the toilets…

Wait, he didn’t have to clean the toilets, did he?

“Hartley!” Cisco jumped, startled as Dr. Moore called out down the hall. 

There was the brief sound of footsteps and the man from before appeared in the doorway. He was already wearing his lab coat, his jacket and bag gone. He clasped his hands behind his back and avoided looking at Cisco. 

“Mr. Rathaway,” Cisco blinked at the name, staring at the other intern - _Hartley_ , “this is Francisco Ramon. Show him around.” Dr. Moore ordered, eyes already back to his tablet. “Don’t scare this one off this time.”

“Of course, Dr. Moore.” Hartley finally looked toward Cisco, his expression carefully blank. “I’ll show you where to put your things, Mr. Ramon.”

“Cisco is fine,” Cisco said, a bit dazed as Hartley turned on his heels and began walking down the hall. Cisco hurried to catch up. “Wait up, _Rathaway_? As in ‘Rathaway Industries’ Rathaway?”

Hartley sighed and kept walking. “Yes, that Rathaway.”

Hartley entered a small break room where, toward the back, was a series of lockers. Most of them were labeled though only a few had actual locks. Cisco saw that most of the free lockers were at the bottom. Great.

“Pick one and put a label on it,” Hartley instructed, reaching up and pulling down a small pack of labels and a sharpie. 

“Yeah, I got it.” Cisco picked the locker on the bottom right and opened it, shoving his own bag in. “So, you’re like, related to the CEO or something?”

Hartley shoved the labels and sharpie into Cisco’s hands as soon as he stood back up. He looked down at Cisco’s shirt.

“You’re actually going to wear that?” He asked after a moment.

“Hey, Dr. Moore didn’t say anything!”

“Moore doesn’t look up from his tablet for more than five seconds at a time,” Hartley scoffed, crossing his arms.

“He’s your boss,” Cisco pointed out, unable to stop a small smirk. “He seemed alright.”

“You talked to him for about three minutes,” Hartley shook his head. “Hurry up, I need to show you around before we can actually start doing anything.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Cisco slapped the label on his locker and put the labels and sharpie back on top of the lockers before turning to him. “Lead the way, Rathaway.”

Hartley glowered before turning and walking out the door.

“That was the break room, this is the…” Hartley stopped, staring down at the end of the hallway. 

Dr. Moore was standing there, for once, the tablet down as he talked to a tall, balding man in a dark blue business suit. Cisco squinted at the new man, taking in his profile.

“Hey, is that -”

Hartley turned to face Cisco. “Magnetic flux is measured by what?”

“Uh, Hall effect pick up. What does -” Cisco tried to see over Hartley’s shoulder.

“The dual of a parallel R-C circuit?” Hartley pressed on, moving in the way of Cisco’s gaze, stopping him from looking at the men at the end of the hall.

“Series R-L circuit. Are you going to tell me what’s going on or -”

“Hartley,” the man in the business suit called out. Hartley winced.

“Close your lab coat,” Hartley hissed before turning around to face the man. “Good morning, Mr. Rathaway.”

Cisco stared up at the taller man as he approached though the man’s eyes were focused on Hartley. There was only one Mr. Rathaway this could be. No wonder he looked familiar, even if Osgood Rathaway’s picture wasn’t hanging in the lobby, the man’s had his face plastered on enough technology and business magazine covers, it would be hard to mistake him.

And he was coming this way. 

“You left early this morning,” the man, Mr. Rathaway, said, coming to a stop in front of Hartley. “Your mother wanted to remind you not to be late for dinner tonight. We’re having the mayor’s family over and your mother is insistent you meet their daughter.”

Hartley’s smile was strained. “I’ll try my best, Dad, but it gets busy here…”

“Ah, stop right there. I’m giving you the afternoon off, so no excuses.” Mr. Rathaway shook his head. “I appreciate your dedication, Hartley, but your mother is… well, your mother.”

“I… I guess my schedule’s clear then,” Hartley didn’t look at all happy about this. “I’ll be there at 8 then.”

“Make it 7.” Mr. Rathaway nodded, missing the sour look that crossed over Hartley’s face as he turned his gaze over to Cisco.

“Mr. Rathaway,” Cisco couldn’t stop the grin on his face as he held out his hand. “It’s a honor, really, sir. I just started…”

He wasn’t looking at Cisco anymore. The fond look that had been on the man’s face just seconds before had faded away as the man’s eyes took in first Cisco’s hair, long and loose and down to his shoulder, then the t-shirt under the lab coat Cisco hadn’t bothered to close.

“Did they not teach you proper grooming?” Mr. Rathaway asked, looking Cisco over with a slight scowl. The man didn’t say it but Cisco could hear the ‘where you come from’ in his voice. “Or that t-shirts are not work appropriate? At least not in this building…”

Cisco felt like someone and dumped a bucket of ice over him.

_You won’t last the day._

“That’s my fault.” 

Cisco blinked as Hartley stepped forward, between his father and Cisco. Mr. Rathaway looked down at his son then back at Cisco. 

“I ran into him this morning,” Hartley continued, grimacing like he was embarrassed. “I spilled my coffee on him and all he had was clothes he was going to wear to the gym after work. I told him it’d be more important he be on time than what he was wearing…”

Cisco stared at Hartley. He was sure his mouth was gaping but… what the actual hell was that?! What happened to ‘You won’t last the day’? Not that he was complaining but…

“Hmph,” Mr. Rathaway turned his gaze back to Cisco, frowning. “I’ll let you off this time but if I catch wind of you breaking dress code again…”

“Right, Sir,” Cisco nodded, quickly buttoning up the lab coat to cover the t-shirt. “I’ll bring extra shirts in case it ever happens again, Mr. Rathaway. Sir.”

The man nodded and turned to walk back down the hall toward the elevators. “And do something about that hair. If you can’t get it cut, tie it back or something.”

“Yes, Sir.”

They watched as Osgood Rathaway disappeared behind the closing doors of the elevator. Dr. Moore turned to them, his tablet already back in hand. 

“Well, enough dilly-dallying, get to work.” Dr. Moore walked away, leaving the two interns alone in the hall.

“Your dad is Osgood Rathaway?!” Cisco blurted out, turning to stare at Hartley. “And you work as an _intern_?”

Hartley rolled his eyes. 

“We decided it’d be better that I start from the ground up,” Hartley shrugged. “He didn’t want to be accused of nepotism, even if he’ll never fire me unless I screw up in a very big way.”

“Uh, pretty sure that counts as nepotism,” Cisco huffed, shaking his head. “And what was that Q and A about?”

“We have to finish your tour,” Hartley started walking back down the hall.

“Hey, wait!” Cisco followed after him. He reached forward and snagged the sleeve to Hartley’s coat. “I just… thanks for that. You didn’t have to cover for me, even if it wasn’t a big risk to you but I really want this job so… thanks.”

Hartley sighed and pulled Cisco into the nearest lab. The sign on the door said ‘Biological research’. Hartley flipped on the lights and went to the back of the room where a series of large white tanks rested. Cisco could see white rats darting back and forth in the large, main tank.

“Most interns get hired because of their families,” Hartley said, opening the cabinet beside the tank, taking out a bag of rat food. “Which means most of them are idiots who just want to put ‘Rathaway Industries’ on their resume because it looks good. It’s not often HR actually gives us someone with two brain cells to rub together…”

“So that’s what the Q and A in the hall was about?” Cisco asked, watching as the rats flocked over to smell the food Hartley was laying out for them. “You were making sure I wasn’t an idiot?”

“Well, the cellphone tipped me off that you weren’t some rich kid getting something handed to you,” Hartley admitted, scratching one of the rats on the head. “So I had hoped you’d actually be the real thing. I was right.”

“That’s… okay, I guess I get it,” Cisco said slowly, watching as some of the rats grabbed up food in their mouth before darting off into one of the many shelters darted around the tank. “Wait, it was my cellphone that tipped you off? Not my shirt? Because ever since I came in, people have been giving me dirty looks…”

Hartley winced.

“Sorry about that, I shouldn’t have been such a… well, I should have been nicer and actually told you about the dress code but really, that didn’t tip you off?” Hartley asked with a hint of a smile as he checked the rat’s water bottle. 

“I thought you were all being snobs…” Cisco admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

“You’re not actually the first intern to do this,” Hartley admitted, closing up the tank. “The ones before were entitled douchebags, to put it nicely. As soon as someone who isn’t Dr. Moore notices, they get reported for breaking dress code and typical don’t come back the next day.”

“That’s kind of strict,” Cisco watched as Hartley moved around the room, turning on the computers. After a moment, Cisco joined in. “Getting fired over a t-shirt.”

“Dad’s strict about it,” Hartley shrugged. “Says it’s disrespectful to show up to work looking anything other than professional. This,” Hartley gestured down at his own clothes, “is as casual as he’ll allow. And I only get away with it because I’m an intern.”

“So, what you’re saying is I basically have to buy some new clothes,” Cisco sighed. He had a few suits he used for funerals and weddings and stuff but it felt weird wearing that to a job. “It doesn’t have to be designer, does it?”

Can he survive on one bowl of ramen a day? Maybe if he sold all his furniture and just had a sleeping bag…

“I’m sure you can get away with slacks and a dress shirt,” Hartley shook his head, smiling a bit. “Nice shoes, a belt, and tuck your shirt in and I think you’ll pass. We finally get a decent intern in here, I’d hate to see you get kicked out over something stupid. I can’t take another entitled brat in here.”

“I’ll try my best. Oddly enough, I kind of want to keep this job.” Cisco offered a small smile. “Hey, uh, you never said what Hogwart’s House you chose. You’re a puff, aren’t you?” Cisco smiled as Hartley’s cheeks started to grow pink.

“You tell anyone, I’ll might change my mind about having you around…” There was no real venom in the threat but Cisco held up his hands in surrender anyway.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”


	2. The Beginning: First Date

Working at Rathaway Industries was a lot like working at the small diner Cisco worked at on weekends. He had to be nice to people who treated him like crap, he had to clean up after said people who treated him like crap, and he had to wear a shirt with a collar that felt like it was trying to strangle him.

Some of the things on this list were more annoying than others.

At least the diner paid him.

“Ugh, I thought he’d never leave,” Cisco sighed as Dr. Moore hung up his coat and walked out. When Dr. Moore worked late, both Cisco and Hartley worked late. “Seriously though, who willingly works late on a Friday night?”

On the other side of the lab, Hartley scoffed. “Not everyone has a bustling social calender like you, Cisco.”

“Ha, my weekend is planned out and there’s nothing social about it,” Cisco grinned, shrugging off his own lab coat before fetching a broom out of the supply closet. “Got the weekend off for once and the only people I want to see this weekend are hobbits, elves, dwarves, and the pizza delivery guy.”

“You have a weekend off and you’re going to be watching ‘Lord of the Rings’?” Hartley asked, glancing up from the computer he was shutting down.

“Yep,” Cisco said, popping the ‘p’. “Starting with ‘The Hobbit’. All Extended editions, of course.”

“Of course,” Hartley rolled his eyes, moving onto the next computer. “At least working late is productive.”

“What about you then?” Cisco asked, setting the broom aside so he could start unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the t-shirt hidden underneath. Hartley eyed it distastefully. “What does the young and wealthy Mr. Rathaway do with his weekends?”

“Get dragged to brunch with his mother,” Hartley answered with a long suffering sigh. “A brunch where she tries to set me up with the mayor’s daughter. Again.”

“Wow, she’s really pushing that, isn’t she?” Cisco asked. In the few weeks Cisco had worked at Rathaway Industries, this was the fourth time the mayor and his daughter had come up. First had been the dinner Cisco had overheard that first day at Rathaway Industries, then there had been the dinner Hartley had complained about where both sets of parents had been late, and then there was the lunch where no one but he and the daughter had showed up to. “Bit overkill at this point, isn’t it? She not your type?”

“To put it mildly.” Hartley crinkled his nose. “I’m gay and she’s a lesbian. By definition, we’re not each other’s types.”

Hartley was shutting down the last computer, leaning over the desk but Cisco could tell by the tilt of his head that he was looking at him, waiting for his reaction. It wasn’t exactly a secret that the CEO of Rathaway Industries had conservative leanings but Cisco didn’t really know much more than that.

Hartley watched him for a few seconds before dropping his gaze, his shoulders tensing.

“Well,” Cisco said slowly, drawing Hartley’s carefully neutral gaze back at him, before he smiled, “That’s really not going to work, is it?”

The corner of Hartley’s mouth twitched, fighting back a smile as the tension left him.

“No, it really isn’t.” Hartley glanced toward the door, as though afraid someone might walk in, then back at Cisco. “Look, I shouldn’t have said anything. I mean, neither of us - me and Mary, that is - want our parents to know so… They’re Republicans and I still live at home with my parents and…”

“No, hey, dude,” Cisco raised up his hands, shaking his head, “I won’t say anything. That’s your business, ya’know.”

“Thanks,” Hartley nodded, tugging at the sleeve of his sweater. “I’ll… I’ll tell them eventually, I just… I just want to be prepared in case… well…”

Cisco nodded. He already knew Osgood Rathaway was a bit of a tool, he just hoped, for Hartley’s sake, he wasn’t as big of a tool as he could be.

“Hey, my brother outed me to my parents,” Cisco said after a moment, smiling slightly. “Like, I knew I was bi for a while but never had a boyfriend yet, you know? And my brother got on my laptop while I was at my after school job and went through my search history. I got home and my whole family was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me.”

Cisco shuddered at the memory.

“So I spent the next two hours explaining to my mother than I liked both boys and girls and that I was just waiting for the right time to tell them, that I wasn’t hiding it.” Cisco shook his head. “I’m lucky though, they were more upset by the ‘not telling them’ thing than by the ‘liking boys’ thing.”

“Lucky, yeah,” Hartley nodded, looking Cisco over, an expression Cisco wasn’t sure how to read on his face. Hartley looked away before edging around him. “I’ll take care of the rats and file the biology reports.”

“You and the rats,” Cisco rolled his eyes though there was no heat in the words. The first and only time Cisco had taken care of them, he had screamed when one of the larger rats had run over his hand.

Hartley didn’t answer, already heading out the door. Cisco watched him go for a moment before rushing forward.

“Hey, Hart,” Cisco called out, jogging to catch up with him. “Brunch is a morning thing, right? Why don’t you come and watch one or two of those movies with me?”

Hartley blinked, staring at him.

“I mean, it sucks you can’t watch all of them in an epic marathon like you’re suppose to but the first two Hobbit movies aren’t bad.” Cisco shrugged, smiling. “We can order pizza or something.”

Hartley hesitated a moment and Cisco could see the gears in his head turning. “I suppose so,” He said slowly after a moment. “I haven’t seen any of the Hobbit movies yet… what?”

Cisco stared at him, wide-eyed.

“You poor thing,” Cisco shook his head, a hand coming up to rest over his heart. “This is… this is a travesty. We got to fix this.”

“They’re just movies, Cisco.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Cisco glared before throwing an arm over Hartley’s shoulders and began walking him down the hall toward the bio lab. “New plan, we’ll watch a few of them tonight since you have things to do tomorrow morning but _after_ that? Marathon. Hey, if you and your date get ditched in a doomed matchmaking plot, ask if she’s interested!”

“I doubt that’ll work,” Hartley shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Mary already said that if it happened again, she’s ditching to go see her girlfriend.”

* * *

“You could have warned me these movies were three hours each,” Hartley yawned, arching his back until the bones popped. He groaned. “The brunch is at 11. It’s 1 in the morning.”

“Call in sick,” Cisco suggested immediately, leaning forward to open the pizza box on his coffee table. They had ordered it halfway through the first movie and it was cold now. Cisco shrugged, grabbed a slice and took a bite. Pizza was pizza.

“It’s brunch, not high school,” Hartley huffed, twisting to pop his back more. “Is that something you did? Call out sick because you stayed up too late?”

“What, you never played hookie?” 

“Not really,” Hartley said dryly, quirking an eyebrow over at Cisco who was slumped down into the couch cushions. “Then again, I mostly had tutors until Junior year.”

“You’re such a dork,” Cisco looked up at Hartley, grinning. “I feel like if we were in the 50s, I’d be the cool kid with a leather jacket and you’d be the nerd with thick glasses and pocket protectors.”

“Cisco, we’d both be the nerd with glasses and pocket protectors,” Hartley pointed out.

“Probably,” Cisco conceded, “I could still wear a leather jacket though.”

“If we’re listing stereotypical 50s fashion, that’d leave me with the poodle skirt and I object on principle.” Hartley reached forward to grab the last slice of pizza.

“I don’t know,” Cisco chewed thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m sure I could pull off wearing a poodle skirt but for all I know, you have chicken legs under those slacks…”

Hartley snorted before looking up at the clock. “I really should go…”

“Telling you, hookie is the way to go,” Cisco groaned, sitting up when Hartley set down his half-eaten slice of pizza. “At least watch the last Hobbit movie tonight.”

“And get home at 5 a.m.?” Hartley smirked, shaking his head. “I’ll pass. I actually do want to get _some_ sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” Cisco yawned, standing as well. “Did you like the movies?”

“They’re… alright,” Hartley said slowly, gathering his jacket and messenger bag. “I can see why you like them.”

“…Is that a no on watching the rest of them?” Cisco asked, walking Hartley to the door of his tiny apartment. “I was just wondering because tonight was fun. Movie marathons are always better with company and - _mmph_!”

Hartley’s lips crashed into his own, cutting off Cisco’s words as the other man kissed him. Cisco froze, unsure of what was happening or what he should do. Finally, he kissed back. The kiss only lasted a few moments before Hartley pulled away, his cheeks visibly pink.

“W-What was that for?” Cisco asked, a bit dazed. “I mean, I liked it but…?”

“That was…” Hartley looked down, his fingers straightening the sleeve at his wrist. He licked his lips nervously before looking back up at Cisco. “I-I wasn’t sure if you had meant for this to be a date or… or just a friend thing so I just… kissed you… just in case it was a date…”

“So you just went straight for a kiss?” Cisco asked, laughing softly.

Hartley shrugged, the pink in his cheeks turning a darker red.

“I figured I’d get a kiss either way…” Hartley admitted, his smile shaking. “Was that too forward? Desperate, maybe?”

“Nah, it was… it was nice. Though, if you wanted to know if it was a date, you could have asked,” Cisco reasoned, the world catching back up to him. He smiled. “If you want this to be a date, it can totally be a date.”

“I would like that,” Hartley smiled. 

“So,” Cisco hesitated for a moment, “does this mean you’re coming back tomorrow to continue the marathon?”

Hartley laughed softly and leaned forward to kiss him again.


	3. The Beginning: Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cisco and Hartley attend a gala for Rathaway Industries and Cisco has doubts about their relationship.

When Hartley had dragged him to a tailor, Cisco had protested. When Hartley had refused to actually let him browse and had made it so he only got his measurements taken, Cisco had protested. When Hartley insisted he’d pay for it with his own, personal ‘paid intern’ income, Cisco had protested.

He had planned to keep on protesting when Hartley got to his apartment that night to ‘help him get ready’ but his boyfriend had all but shoved the garment bag into his arms before Cisco could get a word out.

“I know you already have a suit,” Hartley smiled, dressed in a black suit that was probably insanely expensive and had no right being in Cisco’s crappy apartment. “You’ve said it nonstop for the last three days but that suit is ancient and needs to be burned.”

“I like that suit,” Cisco grumbled, clutching the garment bag to his chest.

“It’s fifteen years out of date and doesn’t even fit you properly,” Hartley shook his head, exasperated. “Besides, I wanted to buy you a gift…”

“I have a pop funko collection that needs some new pieces…”

Hartley rolled his eyes. “Maybe next pay check. Now put on your suit so I can see you in proper clothes. Go change in the bedroom, I want to see it all at once.”

Hartley couldn’t hold back a grin, his eyes bright with excitement. If Hartley had been the type of person to bounce in excitement, he would be now. Any objections Cisco might have had shriveled and died before he could voice them. How could he say no to this? It would be like kicking a puppy!

“Fine,” Cisco sighed, looking down at the bag in his arms. “I don’t want this to be a habit though. Expensive gifts and all.”

“Well,” Hartley hesitated a moment, looking sheepish, “my paycheck actually wasn’t enough to pay for it so I had to use my family account.”

Cisco groaned. “Hart!”

“I’m allowed to spend it, Cisco,” Hartley shrugged, looking down to straighten out his sleeves. “Besides, it’d work in your favor to be as well-dressed as possible. People respond well to suits. To _nice_ suits.”

Cisco sighed and disappeared into his small bedroom, closing the door behind him. He tossed the garment bag down on the bed and stared at it for a moment. He was sure that whatever was in there was incredible and stylish and probably the most expensive thing he’s ever owned, at least clothing-wise.

It was something Hartley thought he’d look good in and, more importantly, it was something Hartley thought he’d like.

And it was something Hartley was going to change about him. Even if it was just his crappy suit that he had gotten when he was fifteen so he’d have something for weddings and funerals, it was still _his_. It was brown with elbow patches and he had gotten it at a thrift store with the money from his after school job for $30.

Money wasn’t something Hartley and he had ever really talked about before. They had grown up in completely different worlds. While his family weren’t, exactly, poor, they weren’t anywhere near ‘rich’ whereas Hartley’s family came from the world of 1 percenters. 

The Rathaways could lose half their fortune and they’d still be able to buy a few small island countries if they wanted a vacation.

Hartley had never said anything about it but it was something Cisco was reminded of constantly. Hartley’s clothes, his possessions, his insistence that he pay for things, his nonchalance about the price of incredibly expensive things that always left Cisco reeling… He would suggest restaurants they could go to for lunch and get embarrassed when Cisco pointed out how much everything cost. Money never something Hartley factored in, it was something he never actively thought about.

Hartley was used to high class, sophisticated things and Cisco was, well, neither.

“Well,” Cisco muttered, unzipping the garment bag, “here goes nothing…”

The suit was a black three piece with a dark gray vest. It was soft, the jacket was lined in silk, and it fit him perfectly, hugging his body in just the right way without pulling. There was no extra fabric where it didn’t need to be, there was no pilling or odd stains. The difference was astronomical. Before, he looked like a kid who had borrowed his dad’s clothes and now he looked like an adult who had an adult job in order to buy adult clothing in boring adult colors.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

The Cisco in the mirror didn’t look like the Cisco he knew himself to be and that was… disconcerting.

Maybe he just wasn’t a suit guy.

“Cisco?” There was a soft knock at the door. “Is everything alright?”

Even through the door, Cisco could hear the hint of worry in Hartley’s voice.

“It’s just a suit, Cisco,” Cisco told himself, softly so Hartley wouldn’t hear him. Louder, he called back: “Yeah, just give me a second…”

Cisco looked back at his reflection and took a deep breath before turning back to the door.

Hartley was leaning against the back of the couch, playing with a small, silver box in his hands when Cisco opened the door. Hartley looked up and stared.

“Well,” Cisco sighed, spreading out his arms and turning in a small circle. “What do you think?”

Hartley was quiet for a moment but when Cisco finished his turn to face him, there was a, almost dopey, smile on his face.

“Wow,” Hartley breathed, his smile growing, “you look amazing, Cisco.”

Hartley pushed himself off from the couch, dropping the box onto the couch, before he quickly closed the distance between them. He cupped Cisco’s face in his hands and kissed him with a hunger that was almost ferocious. Cisco blinked in surprise but didn’t hesitate to return it. Hartley moaned softly into the kiss, pressing Cisco back against the door frame.

When the kiss broke, they were both panting.

“I guess you like it,” Cisco said, smiling as he caught his breath. 

“I might have a thing for suits,” Hartley admitted, his thumb tracing along Cisco’s cheekbone. “It’s too bad galas are so formal though. Black’s too boring for you.”

Cisco grinned back.

“It does look good though,” he admitted as Hartley reluctantly took a step back. “I’m not used to clothes that actually, you know, _fit_. It’s weird.”

“Tailors are so under-appreciated.” Hartley nodded, walking back to the couch. “I meant to surprise you with this when you came out… I didn’t expect to get so distracted so quickly,” Hartley picked up the box he had dropped and turned back to Cisco, offering it to him. 

“Hartley, you already gave me a ridiculously expensive gift,” Cisco sighed, shifting from foot to foot. “I don’t want this to be a thing…”

“Technically, my family bought the suit, even if they don’t know it,” Hartley pulled the box back to him, turning it around in his hands. “Since I couldn’t buy the suit with my own, earned money, I wanted to get you something to go with it…”

Hartley looked up at him through his lashes, over the rims of his glasses.

“Those puppy eyes of yours should be illegal,” Cisco sighed and held out his hand. “You have such an unfair advantage in the gift giving department…”

Cisco opened the box and stared.

Inside was a black tie with a gray, dotting pattern covering it. It only took him a second to recognize just what the pattern was.

“…Did you seriously get me a Space Invaders tie?” Cisco asked, looking up wide-eyed at Hartley. His boyfriend smiled nervously as he nodded. “You’re amazing.”

Hartley’s smile brightened before Cisco grabbed him by his own, solid-colored tie, and pulled him into a deep kiss.

 

* * *

Cisco had once heard that if you’re bored at a wedding or formal party, you should just pretend you’re a spy working undercover.

It wasn’t working.

The gala was bustling with people dressed in their finest with waiters carrying trays of champagne and snacks and Cisco was so incredibly bored. Almost everyone of note could pass for a Bond villain and that just took the joy out of it.

He eventually tried to just track Hartley through the crowds, ushered forward by his parents, but, given how often he lost track of his boyfriend because of the crowd, it just reminded Cisco that he’d be a horrible spy and that Hartley was doomed if he had to rely on Cisco to save him from being kidnapped.

It kind of puts a damper on the fantasy.

“Enjoying yourself?” Cisco jumped, turning to see Hartley smiling behind him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t sneak up on a guy like that,” Cisco said, willing his heart to stop pounding. “You finally managed to get away from your mom?”

“Finally,” Hartley agreed, taking a small sip from the glass he held. “I don’t know how much time I have before she finds me again though.”

“There are still daughters she hasn’t introduced you to?” Cisco asked, unable to hide a smirk.

“Reintroducing now.” Hartley sighed before looking Cisco over, a different kind of smirk appearing on his face. He glanced around before leaning closer to Cisco. “Meet me in the coat room in five minutes…”

Cisco felt the blood rush to his face.

“Hartley, there you are!” Cisco looked up to see an older woman with dyed red hair slip her arm through Hartley’s. “I got to chatting and completely lost track of you! I wanted to show you off to Mr. Wilson. His daughter just got back from Dartmouth, you know, and I thought…”

Cisco watched as his boyfriend, an exasperated look in his eyes, was dragged away, back into the crowd. Mrs. Rathaway hadn’t even glanced at him. 

At least she hadn’t mistaken him for a waiter.

Cisco drained his glass and looked around the room one more time. Most of the people here, who didn’t work at Rathaway Industries, that is, were so obviously rich, it was like watching a cartoon. The only non-employees in attendance that were under the age of forty were the children of benefactors. He tried not to notice just how pale most of guests were… the few guests of a darker complexion had filtered out over the last hour.

Cisco sighed through his nose and began to make his way out of the party and down the hall toward the coat room, lost in thought.

Hartley had been speaking with him about finding an apartment now that he had a ‘job’… that he’d feel better about coming out to his parents once he didn’t live with them anymore. Cisco understood why - he understood even more now having watched them in a crowd of crotchety old racists - and yet…

And yet he was meeting his boyfriend in the coat room, away from anyone who might see them, and he couldn’t help but hate it.

He hated that he couldn’t tag along with Hartley when his mother was dragging him all around the room. He hated he couldn’t hold his hand where they might be seen. He hated he couldn’t kiss Hartley goodbye after work or good morning or talk about what they wanted to do that night as they worked.

He hated that he doubted Hartley would ever actually tell his parents that he’s gay or that he’s with him. 

He hated being a secret.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak into the coat room, the boy in charge of it nowhere to be seen.

As soon as Cisco opened the door, he was grabbed by the lapels of his suit and pulled in. A pair of lips found his as the door closed behind him and he was pressed back against it.

“God, Cisco,” Hartley panted against his lips when they parted for air, “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

“I’ve barely seen you all night,” Cisco answered, grabbing Hartley by the hips and pulled him closer. “I thought I would at least get to talk to you some, even if we had to pretend to talk shop.”

“I know,” Hartley kissed him again, pressing his body against Cisco’s. “Don’t know if I could have handled that though. I’ve been wanting to tear this suit off you since you walked in.”

Cisco winced at the reminder that they had had to come separately. That they had to keep up the charade.

Hartley started pressing kisses down Cisco’s neck, his hands pulling at the Space Invaders tie.

“Have you?” Cisco asked, breathing heavily, forcing himself back to the present.

“All night,” Hartley reiterated before dragging his teeth over Cisco’s exposed neck. 

“And - oooh - and what did you want to do?” Cisco stopped to moan as Hartley began sucking at his neck, “What did you want to do to me?”

Hartley pulled away and, even in the dim light of the room, Cisco could see a mischievous glitter in Hartley’s eyes behind his glasses.

“This.”

Hartley, his eyes focused on Cisco’s, slowly dropped to his knees in front of him. His hands quickly found the fly to Cisco’s pants, undoing them in a second.

Cisco leaned back against the door and swallowed, hard, as Hartley leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the front of his boxers, already tented with desire.

“Oh,” Cisco breathed. He watched as Hartley pulled the waistband of his boxers down to expose him. He watched as Hartley licked his lips, wetting them, before moving forward and - “Oh, fuck…”

Cisco slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling as much noise as possible, tangled his free hand in Hartley’s hair, and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally meant to be one chapter but due to the length, mood swing, and PoV change, I broke it up into two.


	4. The Beginning: Kicked Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, once again, this chapter was meant to be part of the last chapter but I broke it up to be it's own part. Now that this part is written, I had to break it up into two parts. So, in short, the last chapter, this chapter, and the next chapter were originally meant to be one chapter.
> 
> I suck at planning things.
> 
> Also: If you hated the Rathaways BEFORE...

The Rathaway Mansion was a large brick building, big enough to be a museum, just across from the city’s biggest park. It was over a hundred years old and, as Hartley had complained before, was far too big for a family of three. It was too big even when one factored in the staff and _their_ families. It was a large building with useless rooms filled with expensive furniture that other people cleaned.

Hartley’s bedroom was about the size of Cisco’s entire apartment, something Hartley only realized when he snuck Cisco into the family mansion - something that only happened once after they were almost caught, repeatedly, that night.

Hartley hated it. 

He hated big empty rooms, he hated the excess… he found he was starting to hate a lot of things.

He would have preferred to go home with Cisco last night. The gala had been as boring as he had thought it would be and he had hated leaving Cisco alone for most of it. Even their time in the coat room had not felt like enough time, secreted away as they had been. 

Perhaps if they hadn’t had to hide… but that hadn’t been an option.

And now Hartley was alone in his too large bed, in his too large room, in his too large mansion… his parent’s too large mansion.

Hartley huffed into his pillow and buried his face into it further. It was too early in the morning for self-pitying thoughts. It wasn’t like he was going to be trapped in this mansion forever. He had a plan.

Once he saved up his own money - he felt it was important that it was his own, earned money and not money that belonged to the family as a whole - he would find his own apartment and he’d tell his parents who he was really dating.

Mom would be disappointed, of course. She’d probably pout at him for denying her grandchildren but would be civil when she realize Hartley wasn’t going to suddenly change his mind or sexuality to suit her…

Dad… well… he’d accept it. Eventually.

Hartley lifted his head up with a frown as something began thumping down the hallway toward his room. He listened to it for a moment before reaching toward the bedside table for his glasses.

It stopped at his door. Hartley sat up in bed, his brows furrowed.

His door swung open, hard enough that swung back to hit the wall. Hartley blinked in shock as his father stormed in, still dressed in his pajamas and dressing gown. His face was red and a half-crumpled newspaper was clenched in his fist.

Behind Osgood, Hartley’s mother ran in behind him, clutching her robe to her throat. There was a wildness in her eyes, frightened and shocked as she looked between her husband and son.

“What,” Osgood growled, holding up the newspaper, “is the meaning of this?!”

Hartley blinked at him. Osgood marched toward him and threw the paper onto the end of his bed. Hartley, eyes on his father, reached down and picked the paper up.

He felt all the blood drain from his face.

The paper was one of the trashier gossip prints his mother preferred to read in the mornings and on the front cover was…

The photo was obviously taken in the dark coat room from last night and Hartley - and it was obviously Hartley - had Cisco pinned to the door, kissing him deeply. It was hard to tell it was Cisco in the picture, with Hartley kissing him, but the next picture cleared up any doubt.

It was easy to see it was Cisco because Hartley had dropped to his knees. Even with the bottom half of the picture blurred, it wasn’t hard to tell just what was happening.

Hartley glanced up at his father, forcing himself to look calmer than he felt.

This was… this wasn’t good. 

Hartley knew he could deny everything. His father might not believe him but he could pay the papers to keep quiet about everything. He would pay them to say it was photoshopped, that it was just someone who looked like him… 

Cisco would not get the same treatment. Osgood already disliked Cisco, finding out he liked men would be all the reason he would need to find a way to fire Cisco - equality laws be damned.

The fact that it was Hartley Cisco was having sex with… Hartley wouldn’t be surprised if Osgood had already called the office to have someone go in on a Saturday specifically to fire Cisco.

Hartley licked his lips and held his head up, letting the paper drop back onto the bed.

“It’s kind of obvious, don’t you think?” he said, faintly surprised his voice didn’t shake. His mother gave a soft sob and Hartley glanced over to see her hand over her mouth. As if he had just said something horrible. Hartley forced back the feeling of guilt at the sight. 

He did nothing wrong.

“We’re dating,” Hartley continued, turning his eyes back to his father. “For about two months now, actually.”

The reaction was almost instantaneous. Osgood started screaming at him, throwing his arms in the air. Hartley glowered down at the sheets on his bed, ignoring the vitriol leaving his father’s mouth. Behind his father, he could hear his mother sobbing softly.

Hartley clenched his fists, fighting back the urge to yell back. If he spoke, things would only get worse.

“Are you listening to me?!” Hartley looked up, finally, as Osgood kicked the edge of the mattress, causing the bed to shake. Osgood pointed a finger at Hartley, his face still red and his eyes staring intently at Hartley’s. “You’re going to a therapist, you understand me? You’re going to get whatever’s fucked up in your head fixed and if they can’t do, we’ll find someone who can.”

Hartley scowled, feeling his own anger bubbling up into a rage. Before he could respond, his father continued.

“And you’re going to stay away from that faggot spic,” Osgood spat out the words in open disgust. “He’s probably the reason you’re like this…”

“Don’t you talk about him that way!” Hartley snapped back, climbing onto his knees on the bed to yell at his father, face-to-face. “He’s a better person than you’ll ever be and if you ever call him anything like that again, I’ll -”

“You’ll what?” Osgood hissed, baring his teeth. “You’ll stay the fuck away from him, you’ll get yourself straightened out and -”

“No!” Hartley yelled back. “I’m gay, Dad! There’s nothing wrong with me and I’m not going to go to some hack doctor for a cure that doesn’t fucking exist! I wouldn’t take it even if it did!”

Osgood dropped his hand to his side, clenching it into a fist as well.

“And I’m going to keep seeing Cisco,” Hartley continued, his anger making him brave. “I want to be with him and you don’t have any say in that. I’m a grown man and I can see who I like…”

From the doorway, Rachel sobbed harder. Hartley tried to ignore her.

Osgood glowered down at him, almost trembling in rage.

“How many times?” Osgood asked, his voice almost quiet but still furious. “How many times did you fuck him? How many times in this house?”

Hartley hesitated a moment. In truth, the one time he brought Cisco home, they didn’t have sex. They had tried but every time they started making out, they had been interrupted. It had been amusing, looking back on it. Now, Hartley wished they had managed it, if only so he could tell the truth.

“I lost count,” Hartley hissed back, letting his own anger and venom seep into the words. “In almost all the rooms -”

Hartley’s head jerked to the side as Osgood’s hand flashed forward, smacking him hard. Rachel screamed from the doorway.

Hartley pressed a hand to his cheek and stared back at his father in shock. That was… that wasn’t something he was expecting. Rachel was suddenly at his father’s side, grabbing onto his raised arm with both of hers as he raised it again.

Osgood lowered his arm but he sneered down at Hartley in open disgust.

“Get the hell out of my house,” Osgood growled, pulling his arm out of his wife’s grip. “I won’t have a pervert for a son.”

With one last sneer, he turned and marched out of the room.

“Fine!” Hartley screamed at his retreated back but the man was already out of his room.

Rachel stared after him before glancing back at Hartley. She still had tears in her eyes. Hartley sank back onto his heels, his anger, for the moment, draining out of him. Hartley looked up at his mother and waited for her to rush forward and hug him. She might not have been the most maternal person in the world but had yet to fail to offer comfort when his father was an ass. “Mom…”

Rachel gave another sob and ran out of the room. Hartley stared after her, a coldness seeping into him.

Hartley’s lips thinned and his hands clutched at the blankets under him.

“Fine,” Hartley muttered under his breath. The way his father had talked about Cisco… even if his mother managed to talk sense into his father, there was no way Hartley was going to stay in this house, not after that.

With renewed anger, Hartley all but launching himself off the bed and toward his closet. He jerked the door open and went into the deep, walk-in closet. He grabbed his old college duffel bag from the floor at the back of the room and turned to clothes around him. He ignored the clothes hanging and went to the drawers that held his more casual clothing. He snatched up the few t-shirts he had, a few of his favored sweaters, and a few pairs of jeans and stuffed them into the bag haphazardly. Socks and underwear quickly followed.

He could get a hotel room until he found a place. It would give his parents time to calm down and be reasonable; he’d come back for the rest of his things then. He only needed clothes for a few days.

Hartley tossed the bag onto the bed and started to get dressed, grabbing clothes out of the bag instead of going back through his closet. He didn’t care what he ended up looking like, he just wanted out. 

Clothes taken care of, Hartley turned to the rest of his room. His wallet and phone went into his pockets, a few books, his laptop, and tablet went into the duffel bag. After a moment of consideration, Hartley grabbed his old, high school flute case from its shelf and stuffed that into the bag as well.

Hartley considered his room for a moment. It was still far too big and, while not full to bursting, there were still a lot of possessions still in the room. His desktop computer, the numerous bookshelves filled to the point of clutter that lined most of the room, the piano in the far corner… He glanced down at the bag on the bed. He had so many things and yet everything he needed and wanted fit into the one small bag…

Hartley zipped the bag shut and grabbed a black hoodie from his closet. He shrugged the hoodie on and pulled the hood up over his head before pulling the bag over his shoulder. He grabbed the crumpled gossip magazine off his bed and grabbed his work bag on the way out, stuffing the paper into it.

There were three exits to the Rathaway Mansion: the front door, the back door, and the secret side door that exited out of the house next door that the Rathaways also owned. 

It was the side door Hartley used. 

If gossip magazines deemed him worthy enough to publish illicit pictures of him, then the paparazzi wouldn’t be too far away.

With his head down so the hood covered his face, Hartley started down the street, passing by numerous people with cameras, all staring intently at the entrances to the Rathaway Mansion. 

There was blood in the water.

 

* * *

 

Hartley was mildly surprised to find the area around Cisco’s apartment building clear of anyone with a camera. Apparently, they hadn’t had time to find out who Hartley’s mysterious lover was.

That wouldn’t last long though.

God, Cisco was going to hate him for this.

Hartley ducked his head further, letting the hoodie hide more of his face, as he entered the building and began climbing the stairs to Cisco’s floor. He hesitated at Cisco’s door for a moment before bringing his knuckles down on the wood.

He waited, shifting uncomfortable from foot to foot. He hadn’t called Cisco beforehand, an oversight that now seemed obvious in the silent hallway. He didn’t know if Cisco had to work today, if he was at work now. He could very well still be asleep, it was only just past nine in the morning…

Hartley licked his lips and knocked again, louder this time.

He almost sighed in relief when he heard the door unlock, the worry leaving him as the door opened.

Cisco stood there for a moment, his long hair still ruffled and tangled from sleep. He blinked once, frowning, before a hand reached up to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

“Hartley?” he asked, his voice rough. “What are you… is that a hoodie?”

Hartley smiled slightly and he shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what else to do. How did you tell someone your parents just kicked you out?

“Uh, yeah,” Hartley shifted from foot to foot again, “Um… my parents found out.”

Cisco blinked, looking more awake now. He looked Hartley over, his eyes zeroing in on the duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder. His eyes darted back up to Hartley’s face before drifting just a bit lower, toward his cheek.

Cisco’s lips thinned as his hand gripped the doorway tightly.

“Come in,” Cisco said, taking a step back to let Hartley in. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” Hartley stepped into the now familiar apartment. He reached into his work satchel and brought out the rumpled paper that had started it all. He handed it to Cisco. “I-I guess the coat room wasn’t as secure as I thought it was…”

Cisco stared down at the front page, a slightly green look coming over his features.

“Guess not.”

Hartley tugged at the sleeve of his hoodie.

“My parents came into my room this morning, waving that in my face,” Hartley shrugged looking down at the paper so he wouldn’t have to look at Cisco’s face. “They, uh, they didn’t take it too well.”

Cisco stared at the front page a moment longer before tossing the paper toward the small trash bin by his desk. He turned to Hartley, looking him over once again.

“Did… did he do that?” Cisco asked, nodding toward Hartley’s face. Hartley reached up and touched his cheek where his father had slapped him, wincing at the soreness of it. He hadn’t had time to think much about it in his haste to leave and to get to Cisco’s place.

“Is it that bad?” Hartley asked, confirming where it had come from.

“It’s pretty red,” Cisco nodded, stepping forward. He gently touched Hartley’s chin and moved his face to the side to look at the bruise that was starting to form. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I really want to punch your dad right now.” Cisco’s voice was low and angry. 

Hartley smiled slightly. “Yeah, I do too.”

Cisco pulled Hartley forward and wrapped his arms around him tightly, hugging his as hard as he could. Hartley hesitated a moment before wrapping his arms around Cisco and buried his face into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Cisco muttered, a hand rubbing circles into his back. “What happened? You… you have a bag with you.”

Hartley sighed and pulled away just enough to see Cisco’s face.

“Dad yelled at me, said he’d send me to therapy to get ‘fixed’,” Hartley scowled, his expression getting darker as he continued. “He called you a few names I’d rather not repeat and when I told him off for it, he… he kicked me out.”

“Just like that?” Cisco asked, disgusted. Hartley nodded. “I knew your dad was an ass but…” Cisco trailed off. “I’m sorry, Hartley.”

Hartley nodded, pushing back a tightness that was growing in his throat.

“I figured I’d give them a few days to cool off,” Hartley nodded, mostly to himself. “On the way here, I stopped by the bank and got some money for a hotel room for a few days. I figured they’d be more reasonable by then and I can get the rest of my stuff before I got a place of my own.”

“You’re going to get a hotel room?” Cisco repeated, tonelessly.

Hartley grimaced. 

“I didn’t know if you’d… I didn’t want to assume,” he explained, reminded of the heavy bag hanging across his torso.

Cisco huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. 

“Of course you can stay here, Hartley,” Cisco’s smile widened. “I’d prefer it, actually.”

“Are you sure?” Hartley asked, his hands coming up to tug on the strap of his bag. “I mean… I’m pretty sure neither of us have jobs anymore, not at Rathaway Industries anyway.”

Cisco stared for a moment, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Sorry,” Hartley muttered, looking down to the floor. “It’s my fault.”

“Nah,” Cisco shook his head, ducking his head down to catch Hartley’s gaze. “It just saves me from having to quit. There are other internships. For both of us. We’ll be fine.”

“Cisco,” Hartley sighed, shaking his head, “I know I’m a bit oblivious to how normal people live but even I know good, science and engineering internships at big name companies are hard to find.”

“You forget,” Cisco smirked, his hands coming to rest on Hartley’s hips. “We’re both brilliant.”

“There is that,” Hartley laughed softly before leaning forward to press a kiss to Cisco’s lips.

“Let me get dressed,” Cisco pulled away with a smile, “and we can go to the diner down the street for breakfast.”

Hartley winced.

“Um, that might not be a good idea right now. I’m a wanted man.”

Cisco stared at him questioningly before sharing Hartley’s wince. “Oh, right. Paparazzi.”

“Welcome to the limelight, Cisquito,” Hartley forced a smile. “It’s only a matter of time before they find out who you are and we’ll be trapped in here for the next month. Sorry…”

“Well, I don’t have to go into work until six tonight,” Cisco said, considering, “Netflix? We can order takeout when it’s closer to lunch?”

“Netflix and takeout?” Hartley asked, his smile less forced. “I’d like that.”

Cisco nodded, returning the smile. “We, uh, we can put your bag in the bedroom. Since you’re staying here. With me.” 

“With you,” Hartley confirmed, his fingers running along the strap of the duffel bag before he pulled it over his head. The bag hit the floor with a muffled thud. “Though you’ll probably get sick of me in a day or two.”

“Never,” Cisco scoffed, running a hand through his tangled hair. “I’ve, uh, I’ve actually been trying to think of how to ask you… well, instead of you getting your own place, I thought maybe you could… that is if you wanted…”

“You wanted me to move in with you?” Hartley asked in surprise. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were always going on about finding your own place,” Cisco shrugged, not quite meeting Hartley’s eyes. Cisco leaned down to grab the top straps to the bag. “I thought, maybe, you were trying to tell me something.” 

“Cisco,” Hartley started, holding Cisco’s gaze, “Getting my own place was the plan for so long, I didn’t even think… do you really want me to? Move in with you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Cisco nodded, a red tint to his cheeks. “If you want.”

Hartley thought it over for a moment but a moment was all he needed.

“I think I’d like that,” he said carefully, smiling as he said the words.

Cisco’s face broke into a grin before he moved forward. He dropped Hartley’s bag back onto the floor and reached up to cup Hartley’s face, careful of the growing bruise. He pressed his lips to Hartley’s, kissing him hard and soundly, pouring his happiness and desire into the kiss.

They were both breathing heavily when the kiss broke.

“Do we get to do that more often?” Hartley asked, his lips brushing against Cisco’s.

“All the time,” Cisco promised, running his thumbs over Hartley’s cheeks. “Can we kiss like that in front of people now?”

“You’re damn right we are,” Hartley laughed before pressing a softer, shorter kiss to Cisco’s lips. “We’ll be front page news for years to come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also: Hartley miiiiight be in a state of denial when it comes to his parents... 
> 
>  
> 
> My tumblr: http://kariki.tumblr.com/


	5. The Beginning: The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cisco goes to an important meeting and Hartley worries

Cisco was positive his heart was going to explode. There was no logical way it could be pounding so hard and there not be something seriously wrong.

“My fingers are tingling,” Cisco said, staring at his reflection over Hartley’s shoulder as the other man straightened his suit. “Is that normal? Should I worry about that?”

“You’re nervous,” Hartley shook his head, turning Cisco around to face him so he could wrap the tie around his neck and start knotting it. “I can still go with you,” he said, looking up at Cisco through his lashes as his fingers worked, “Marlene will understand. She even told me I could take the day off if I wanted…”

Of course Marlene would understand, the older woman was almost a pushover with out understanding she was. Even with the massive donation of clothes and supplies they had just gotten she would have let Hartley ditch and leave them a man down to go through it all. Perhaps if he had been anyone else, Hartley would have taken her up on the offer but no, Hartley wouldn’t do that to the shelter, even if he really wanted to go do something else.

He owed them too much.

It had been almost a year ago that Hartley had moved in with him and, even now, Cisco could only think of that time fondly. Those first two weeks had been amazing and bordering on carefree, even with the paparazzi hunting them down for candids. Hartley had even insisted on trying to find a job to help out with rent and food. He had wanted to use the money he had brought with him (an amount that no one had any right to just be walking around with in their pocket) but Cisco had refused to take it, insisting that it go into a savings account in Hartley’s name. An account his parents had no connection to and could do nothing with.

Cisco hated that he had been right.

He could remember that day quite clearly, even now. He had come home after a double shift at the diner, exhausted and thankful to be home, only to find Hartley curled up in the corner of the kitchen with a torn apart letter in pieces in front of him and his face covered in tears. Hartley had looked up at Cisco, his arms wrapped around himself tightly, and started sobbing again.

It had taken Cisco a while to piece together what happened, Hartley being in no state to be coherent and the letter in too many pieces to put together quickly, but eventually the story came out. 

Hartley’s father had him completely disinherited. He had removed Hartley from the family bank accounts, from his parents wills, had his credit cards and bank accounts closed, everything Osgood could cut him out of, he did. That was what the letter was: informing Hartley of his disowned, both from his father and the family’s favorite lawyer, and with a demand that Hartley never speak to or approach them ever again.

There was a part of Cisco that just couldn’t understand how Hartley had not seen something like this coming, couldn’t see how Hartley had still held some hope inside him after everything but he had. Hartley had held onto the hope that his parents still loved him and that hope had been ripped away from him by the very people he still held dear.

The weeks that followed had been rough. It had taken Hartley days to stop crying, to stop apologizing to Cisco for being so useless and for dragging him down with him. There were days Hartley would bury himself in the blankets of their bed, unable to look at Cisco through his sobs until he was too exhausted to cry anymore. Cisco could only hold Hartley during those times and listen to Hartley’s tired mumbles, his confessions of love and how he’s going to end up ruining Cisco because of it. 

The first time Hartley had said he loved him and it was with tears in his eyes, the words surrounded by grief and it was in those moments that Cisco was sure he had never hated someone as much as he hated Osgood Rathaway. 

It had taken Hartley weeks to even get out of bed for more than a few minutes at a time. Then, one day, Hartley had gotten out of bed, showered, changed into clean pajamas (he hadn’t been ready for proper clothes yet) and had gotten on the laptop and began searching.

What he had found was Central City Center. It was a small shelter in a rougher neighborhood, close to Keystone, but it welcomed all who needed help, regardless of sex, gender, religion, or orientation it didn’t get many donations because of it. It was the kind of shelter the Rathaways would never had donated to, not even for tax purposes - there was no glamour to it, no profitable return.

It was perfect.

Hartley had started volunteering there every day that he could and when he was offered a job there, he took it and, as far as Cisco knew, has not regretted it since.

Yes, he knew Hartley would go with him if he asked, even if he would hate to leave the shelter in their time of need, even if it was just sorting donated clothes and food, but he would do it, for Cisco’s sake.

Which is why he couldn’t do it.

“No, I got this,” Cisco said, his voice barely trembling. “I mean, it’s just a representative of Wayne Electronics taking a look at our blueprints and plans for a super cheap but powerful processor that could literally change how we make computers and make them even more accessible to people but it’s no big deal…”

He felt like he was about to faint… or throw up… or both.

“Breath, Cisco,” Hartley instructed, keeping the tie loose for now. With a smile, he reached up and cupped Cisco’s face, guiding his gaze down to meet hsi own. “You’ve got this, Cisco. We’ve been designing it for months, you know every detail about it, you know all potential bugs and the solutions for them. You know how much they would cost to produce and you know how powerful a final product will be and all you have to do is tell someone else that. You can do this.”

Cisco looked at Hartley, at his reassuring smile, at the freckles and moles dotting his face and neck. He was wearing one of Cisco’s t-shirts at the moment though he’d change into one of his nerdy sweaters that Cisco denied liking before he went to work.

He would come if Cisco asked…

“I love you,” Cisco said before kissing Hartley softly. “I’ll come by the shelter afterward. Tell you how it went and try to help out some.”

“Alright,” Hartley smiled, tightening Cisco’s tie until it was perfectly in place. “Love you too,” he leaned up and kissed the corner of Cisco’s mouth, “and you’re going to do amazing.”

 

* * *

 

The staff at the Central City Center had known to expect a large donation but even this was far more than they had been expecting. They had been prepared for a moving van, maybe full but more likely only half. What pulled up to the building was a, albeit smaller, semi-truck filled with donated clothes - some of which were even new! -, crates full of non-perishable food, and boxes full of miscellaneous necessities that people often overlooked.

It was amazing and overwhelming and humbling…

And Hartley could barely focus on it.

After the initial shock and awe of the truck’s arrival wore off, when everyone’s enthusiasm was turned from rejoicing to actual work, Hartley’s mind drifted away from the shelter and to a restaurant on the roof of a five star hotel where the outcome of almost a year of brainstorming, planning, and creating was being decided.

It was dramatic and unrealistic to think that this would decide his and Cisco’s future but it certainly felt that way. There were other opportunities for them, even for their first joint-project if Wayne Electronics didn’t want it. This was just a first step, not long to fall at all if they failed, this was nothing.

It didn’t feel like nothing.

“I’m fairly certain there’s no secret compartments, Hartley.”

Hartley blinked, almost dropping the donated sweater he had been inspecting. He looked up across the table to see Marlene smiling gently at him, her dark eyes still twinkling in joy. He felt his cheeks heat up as he quickly folded the sweater and set it aside. He had no idea how long he had been looking at it but obviously long enough to draw attention.

“Sorry, my mind was somewhere else,” Hartley reached into the bag of clothes and pulled out a pair of jeans.

“I figured as much,” Marlene nodded, setting aside a t-shirt before leaning forward to look at Hartley. “I know today was very important for you and Cisco, Hartley, and I just wanted to thank you for turning up today. We needed all the help we could get today and you didn’t need to be here for it…”

“I wanted to be,” Hartley reassured her, shrugging a shoulder, “even if I am distracted. I wanted to be here…”

“You just wanted to be there as well.”

Hartley folded the jeans and set them aside. He reached in the bag for another garment to inspect but his fingers touched nothing but plastic. He sighed and glanced up to meet Marlene’s gaze.

“Yes, but… I’m needed here,” Hartley said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Cisco can handle this…”

Even if it was Cisco’s first actual business meeting… even if Hartley knew from talk around the Rathaway dinner table of all the ways a business can take advantage of young inventors… even if… if…

No. No, he knew Cisco could do this. It would be fine, it would all be fine.

The worst that can happen is they get rejected and it’ll be the representatives mistake, not theirs…

“Cisco said he’ll be coming by to help,” Hartley said, breaking himself out of his own thoughts as he reached for a new bag to sort. “When the meeting is over with.”

“Oh, lovely,” Marlene smiled, looking over Hartley’s shoulder at the large pile of bags that almost seemed to loom over them, “We need all the help we can get.”

Hartley nodded, looking back at the pile that still needed to be sorted.

“He might be here soon, actually,” Hartley glanced down at his wrist to check the time. “Depending on how it goes.”

Marlene nodded, her thin hands running over the donated clothes, checking them before folding them.

“Well, I hope it works out wonderfully for both of you,” she said lightly, not looking up from her work. “You and Cisco… if anyone deserves to have a break, it’s definitely you two. You’ve been such a help, Hartley, and Cisco’s always nice to have around.” She paused in her work before looking up at Hartley, her face suddenly earnest. “We’re all proud of you here, Hartley. You know that, right? You and Cisco.”

Hartley felt his cheeks heat up but there was a warm fluttering in his chest. Growing up, his parents had never held back their praise, had always let him know when he had pleased them. After the… falling out, Cisco had taken on that role, eager to chase away any fears and doubts and self-loathing he might express.

To hear it from someone that wasn’t family or a lover did nothing to lessen the joy he felt from hearing it.

“Thanks,” Hartley muttered, looking intently down at the table though he suspected it did nothing to hide his red cheeks and ears.

“I mean it,” Marlene assured him, smiling. Her dark eyes glanced up and her smiled widened. “Go tell your boyfriend I said that.”

Hartley turned to the door, almost dropping the shirt he was holding in his haste.

Cisco stood in the doorway, looking around the room. His tie was loosened around his neck, his shirt untucked, and there was a vaguely dazed look on his face.

Hartley’s heart dropped as he looked at that expression. Cisco had only been gone for the absolute minimum that Hartley had estimated which meant the meeting was quick. 

Quick meetings are usually bad ones.

He swallowed back the thick, clotting disappointment in his throat and put on a small smile as he made his way over to Cisco.

There would be other meetings, other opportunities but Cisco was more important right now.

“Hey,” Hartley smiled, pulling Cisco into a hug. The other man wrapped his arms around Hartley a bit too tightly. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you here so soon… How did it go?”

Cisco squeezed Hartley harder and buried his still cold face in the crook of Hartley’s shoulder. He could feel the slight tremble in Cisco’s body.

Hartley swallowed the lump of disappointment in his throat and turned his head to press a kiss to Cisco’s temple.

“There… there are other places we can try,” he said softly so only Cisco could hear him. “We’re not done yet. We can… Cisco?”

Cisco pulled back, his arms still around Hartley as he looked at him.

The dazed look was still there on his face but there was something else… a look that didn’t speak of rejection or failure.

“Cisco…?”

“They accepted it,” Cisco announced, his voice soft and shocked and happy, his lips slowly tugging up into a smile that slowly turned into a grin. “They accepted it, almost immediately. I barely got a word in.”

Hartley blinked, his own pulse blaring in his ears as Cisco’s words sank in. Whatever disappointment he had been feeling was gone, shoved violently out by Cisco’s news, leaving his head swimming.

“They… they…?”

Whatever restraint Cisco had been holding onto vanished in the face of Hartley’s shock. 

“Bought it out completely,” Cisco laughed more than said as he bounced on the balls of his feet, giddy. “They had the check ready and everything. I’ve never seen so many zeros…”

Hartley swallowed hard, trying to catch up. 

“They bought it,” he said the words slowly. Cisco nodded, grinning. “They bought it?” 

“They did,” Cisco confirmed, unable to stop smiling.

“They bought it,” Hartley repeated again, the words tumbling out of his mouth now. “They bought it!”

“Yeah, they - woah!” 

Hartley all but threw himself onto Cisco, wrapping his arms tightly around him even as they fell to the floor. He kissed Cisco hard, pushing all of the excitement and happiness and relief and joy he felt into it. 

When the kiss broke, they were both panting. Neither of them noticed the crowd that had stopped around them to watch, their duties ignored for the moment.

“I love you,” Hartley said, breathing heavily as he stared down at the man under him. He laughed softly, shaking his head. “We did it, I love you.”

Around them, the world waited but there was a new glow to it, something neither had felt much of in the last few months. There was the promise of better things to come, of hope and a future they had worked hard for. 

“Love you,” Cisco said, voice thick and heavy as he reached up to cup Hartley’s face before pulling him down for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, this is still a thing!


	6. The Beginning: Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cisco and Hartley plan and then improvise.

The building was an old brick number from the 1920s in a neighborhood that used to be well off but had fallen on hard times. Its bricks were now covered in graffiti and stains that Cisco didn’t want to consider the origins of and the bare, cement floors were littered with newspapers, fast food wrappers, beer cans, bottles, and other debris that could only have come from frequent raves and parties.

The real estate agent’s smile was strained as she stepped over a pile of trash to lead them into the area that was, technically, a lobby.

A rat ran across the floor, dodging from one trash pile to another.

“The structure of the building is still quite sound,” the real estate agent assured them, her hands clasped in front of her as her brown eyes watched the floor for more rodents. 

Hartley walked across the floor, careful of the debris but more for cleanliness than fear of any inhabitants, and looked up at the high ceiling. The windows were nice, when they were still whole.

Cisco glanced at the nearest artwork on the wall, a smile tugging at his lips. It was a large, colorful piece of what seemed to be a police officer with his pants around his ankles. The words ‘Fuck the police’ were proudly tattooed on the cop’s right butt cheek.

Probably not work appropriate but it was nicely done.

“Think we can frame this one?” Cisco called out to Hartley who was checking the view from the broken windows.

Hartley glanced over and barked out a laugh.

“I thought I was the overtly liberal one,” Hartley answered with a grin.

“Just art appreciation,” Cisco smiled before pulled his hands out of his pockets,spreading them out to gesture at the building. “What do you think?”

“I like it,” Hartley said back after a moment of taking the place in. “It’ll be big enough for what we need, we’re only just starting after all, and it’ll help the neighborhood out some as well.”

“Raise the property value?” Cisco rolled his eyes but Hartley shrugged. 

“It’ll be nice to be on good terms with the neighbors,” Hartley clarified. “Though I’m sure the local kids will be bummed that we’re taking their party hub.”

“And the artists,” Cisco looked back at the mural.

“Wait, so this means you’ll take it?” The real estate agent - Janet, Cisco thought her name was, it was mostly Hartley doing the house hunting, so to speak.

Cisco looked over at Hartley, quirking an eyebrow.

Hartley glanced around one last time before looking back at Cisco.

“Well?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Cisco nodded, smiling. “We’ll take it.”

“Great!” Janet looked flustered and ecstatic. It made Cisco wonder how long her agency had been trying to get rid of this place. “We can meet in my office and do the paperwork!”

“Great,” Hartley smiled at her, nodding. “Do you mind if we look a bit more? Admire the artwork?”

“It’s all yours,” Janet giggled happily. “What time will you be around to sign the papers?”

“We’ll come by shortly,” Hartley said, his smile broad. “I think we can get to your office before you close for the day.”

“Perfect,” Janet nodded, “I’ll go get the paperwork started. Congratulations on your new purchase!”

Cisco watched as she eagerly left the building, shaking his head.

“I think the commission for this building is quite a lot,” Hartley snickered, shaking his head as well. “That, and they’re happy to see it go.”

“You sure about this one?” Cisco asked, walking across the room to join Hartley by the windows. “We didn’t really do a proper tour.”

“I researched it and she confirmed everything on the ride over,” Hartley shrugged. “There’s a sizable basement that shouldn’t be too difficult to convert to a few labs, plenty of office space, lobby, meeting room, and it’s in an ideal location. For a starter, it’s perfect.”

“Thought of everything, haven’t you?” Cisco said with a smile. Hartley reached over and corrected Cisco’s hands, even as he nodded.

“My parents were raising me to run a business,” Hartley reminded him, bringing Cisco’s hand up to kiss the knuckles before letting their hands drop to rest between them. “I guess this is really backfiring on them now.”

“Their loss,” Cisco grinned, “In every way imaginable.”

Hartley rolled his eyes but his smile was still bright.

“So this is it?” Cisco confirmed, lacing his fingers with Hartley’s. “The first step in making our own company?”

“It’ll still be a few months to get the building ready but we have more than enough money to get it started,” Hartley nodded, confident. “In the meantime, we can polish up our other designs, maybe start on some new ones. It’ll be a good idea to be ready for when the remodeling is done and - oh!”

Cisco stopped Hartley’s planning with a kiss. He couldn’t help it, everything was going to perfectly. He was in love with one of the most brilliant men he had ever met and that man loved him back. They were partners in more ways than one and Hartley believed in them so thoroughly it was hard not to believe in them as well. Their future was waiting for them, even in this trashed and desolate building, and wasn’t that just so symbolic?

Cisco broke the kiss with a small gasp for air as his heart pounded in his chest. He rested his forehead against Hartley’s and saw the dazed love in the other man’s eyes, saw the pink in his cheeks and the red of his lips.

“Marry me,” Cisco breathed, the words escaping his lips before he even had to think of them.

“What?” Hartley asked, his brows furrowing ever so slightly at the sudden proposal, his eyes widening as the words sunk in. “Really?”

“Marry me,” Cisco asked again, smiling as he wrapped his arms around Hartley’s waist.

Hartley stared into Cisco’s eyes for a moment longer before he pressed forward for another kiss, wrapping his arms around Cisco to pull him closer.

“Yes,” Hartley said against the other man’s lips, barely breaking away to speak. “Soon… Now.”

“Now?” Cisco repeated, pulling back, reluctantly. “Right now?”

“Yes,” Hartley nodded, grinning widely. “If we’re getting married, I want it to be as soon as possible. I don’t want to wait. We… we can go get a marriage certificate and get married in front of a judge or… or go to Vegas or Star City and elope. We can even have a honeymoon there…”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Cisco grinned before pulling Hartley into another deep kiss.

Sitting in the back of a cab now, it was hard to believe everything that had happened in the last eight hours. Cisco’s memories of those hours were a blur of motion; signing papers, packing, catching a last minute flight to Las Vegas, then finding a chapel they liked that also did gay marriages, then waiting in line.

They hadn’t even checked into a hotel yet and their only luggage was Hartley’s old duffel bag, stuffed full of whatever clothing and other necessities they could stuff into it.

Watching the brilliant, colorful lights pass by them from the cab window, it was hard to believe it all had actually happened. In so short a time, they had tied their lives together so completely, as thoroughly clasped together as their hands currently were.

Beside him, Hartley sighed in his sleep, his head resting on Cisco’s shoulder.

Cisco smiled and lifted their joined hands up to his lips, kissing the plain gold ring on Hartley’s finger.

The chapel had been small, quick, and a cliche of a Vegas chapel: gaudy decorations, fast talking salesmen, and rings that matched. The pair of simple gold bands were the best option and Cisco had said they could find better ones later. Hartley hadn’t answered, just slipping the band on to test the fit and Cisco suspected these rings would be there to stay. 

He found he didn’t mind all that much. He liked them.

Hartley shifted beside him, slowly coming out of his doze.

“I’m going to get a bedazzled picture frame,” Cisco said softly, gently waking Hartley up. He was missing the sights, after all. “I think it’d go well with our wedding picture.”

Hartley snorted.

“As long as it matches Elvis,” Hartley said with a small yawn, straightening up in his seat but he kept his side pressed to Cisco’s. “I will admit, even though we had a Vegas wedding, I still wasn’t expecting Elvis.”

Cisco laughed.

“They had an Enterprise setup…” Cisco reminded him, a part of him sad that they hadn’t gone with that option.

“Elvis was fine,” Hartley shook his head, leaning over to kiss Cisco’s cheek.

“Yeah,” Cisco relented with a small grin. “I think that’ll have a better impact when we send your parents a copy of it. Really mortify them.”

Hartley elbowed Cisco in the side but he was smiling.

“I love you, Cisco Ramon,” he announced.

“I love you too, Hartley Rathaway Ramon.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try and update this regularly but I'm a fairly unreliable person so... let's see how that goes. Also, I was in a bit of a funk for the last half of this chapter...
> 
> My Tumblr: Kariki.tumblr.com


End file.
